“This one will look after you little Blade. You need a woman’s influence.” His words float around me, dancing on the edge of my consciousness but not absorbed. I’m pre-occupied by the rough sensation of his beard against my hand; I stroke it one way, then the other.

I like the way it feels. It reminds me of special kisses between my thighs.

He grasps my wrist and uses the distraction to prove his point, grazing the bristly hairs against my soft fingers “Daddy’s are rough and tough!” My giggles are hushed with a firm hand across my mouth. Daddy has a point to make.

“I will teach you harsh lessons. I must. It’s what I do. I have to be strong so you will be.”

I nod. He’s a clever Daddy; he always shows me how to make him proud.

“You need a softer influence.” He turns my head to face her. “This is why I got her for you, to read you stories, give you baths and plait your hair. My poor lamb without a mother… this is why she’s here. Her own family don’t see her worth, but I do.”

The pretty lady cowers in the corner of the cage, her back against the bars. The fight still shows in her eyes even if she’s no longer kicking at the metal prison. The futility of these attempts became apparent quickly; despite the obvious strength in her well-defined legs, she’s no match for the crudely welded enclosure.

The steel would keep even Daddy inside… Or out… When his rage takes and I need to hide.

Driven by a fierce survival instinct she’d changed tact. Brute force had failed so she’d engaged a more measured approach, patting around the joints of the structure for a weakness. A fruitless task which she persevered with for hours while Daddy looked on, drinking her in from every angle, images displayed from each camera in the room.

“…so beautiful, those curves… soft skin… and that determination, that strength….”

Daddy’s still talking about her although his tone has changed. I find myself uncomfortable, fidgeting on his lap, fighting against the rising mound in his jeans and the way his words are making me feel.

He’s looking at her like he looks at me.

“You will be friends.” He tells me, not noticing my discomfort. “She will show you things and you will listen.”

The words cut me. I must listen to her? That thing? Wretched and weak and locked in a cage like an animal. My mouth goes sour with disgust.

This time he notices. “Look at me.” His tone direct, hard and to be obeyed.

Reluctantly I look up at him. “Yes Daddy.”

“Do not disappoint me, my Blade.” He looks deep into me, his gaze unwavering. Drilling into me I feel my eyes water in response. I shake my head, desperate for him to know I am a good girl. I am his good girl.

The rattling of the cage emanates from the monitors. She is trying again to get out. Silly, stupid girl. Daddy will let her out when he’s ready. She can’t change that.

Just as I think this he lifts me up and puts me down. “She really is very clever.”

He leaves the room and I am left staring at the monitor, her face stares right back at mine; right in to the eye of the camera. She shakes the cage with little effort and simply stares at the lens. She knows we’re watching. She called his attention.

Her pretty face claws at me and makes my insides squirm with a horrid pain. I force myself to watch as Daddy enters the room. I force myself to watch as he circles the cage, like stalking prey. I force myself until I can take no more, squeezing my eyes closed.

It doesn’t block the sound of his voice coming from the monitors.

“Good girl,” he growls, “you finally realised the only way out is through me.”

Good girl. The words stab at me. I try to hold it in but I am instantly sick. The red stained bile of my last meal leaks out of my mouth. It drips off my chin and down my pretty new dress. I barely notice the mess, back to watching, wide eyed and transfixed, as he kneels down to the cage.

She lunges at him, unable to hold back her own animal instinct.

“Tut tut,” he mocks her, tapping the cage. “I thought you had learned. The only way out of here is when I let you.”

Her words are harsh. She says all the swears at Daddy. We don’t say swears. Daddy has to punish us if we do. Like he did to the poor idiot boy last time.

I don’t hear what they say and the funny feeling in my tummy takes over. I feel like I am floating and can’t focus. My head swims. I blink rapidly to stop my vision from blurring into obscurity.

Regaining my focus I see that two of the monitors are off. The big one in the middle still points at the cage but she’s not in it any more. Where did she go!? I panic. What if she did get out? What if she tricked Daddy? What if she ran away?

I bolt out of the room, down the corridor to the stairs of the basement. The door is open. “Daddy?” I call out down into the darkness, uncertain and scared.

“Yes babygirl?” His words come in reply. A wave of relief washes over me. Daddy is OK. What a stupid girl, of course he is.

“Where are you Daddy? I’m scared!” I call out, disoriented.

“In the playroom. Come down stairs little one.” His invite unnecessary as I am already scrambling down the big steps.

Racing into the room I find him zipping up his jeans. She kneels at his feet. Filthy bitch.

“Daddy?” My voice full of uncertainty.

“Come here sweetling.” He opens his arm to me. “Come and meet your new friend.”

The girl looks at me horrified. My blood stained sick has dried into my summer dress and the panic is making me wild.

Her face is cut and bruised. Her hands are wrapped in white cloth showing off deep red blood stains. Stains from Daddy treats. Daddy has been giving her special kisses. I can see them on her neck. How dare she? He is *my* Daddy.

“Come on, she won’t bite.” He says confidently, adding which a chuckle, “not like you.”

Cautiously I cross the room and delve into his embrace, all the time watching this new wretched thing.

“Why Daddy?” I ask. “I don’t want to be her friend.” A low growl comes out from me, one I can’t hold back.

“Oh darling.” He says softly, stroking my hair, “It’s ok. We have had a little talk and it’s all agreed. She will behave and she will look after you. She is here to show you how to be a pretty, soft little girl for Daddy. Isn’t that right?”

The girl nods, it’s mechanical, without feeling.

A pretty girl for Daddy? The voices scream at me. This slut can’t show me that. Look at her. She doesn’t even fight back. I’m Daddy’s pretty girl, me. I am. Me. She could never be. The slut.

I’ll show her.

A sweet smile breaks out across my face. “Of course Daddy.” I say calmly. “She can show me how to be soft…” …and I will show her how to be hard like Daddy.

“Be good girls now, Daddy needs to run some errands.” He bends down to me, a flash of concern knitting his eyebrows together. “You need cleaning up little lady… look at you, grubby girl”

He points to the tin tub at the side of the room and barks instructions at the girl. She has risen to her feet, arms hanging limp by her side, head down, staring towards the floor. “Give my babygirl a bath. Do it well and I won’t have to punish you. Do it badly and end up back in the cage. Understand?”

The girl nods, straining a smile. The mention of the cage has panic dancing in her eyes, I see a deviance plotting under the surface and I don’t trust it. Daddy thinks he’s made her good but her game is evident to me, she’s just playing him to survive.

She won’t play me.

Oblivious to my observations Daddy gives me his instructions “Play nicely sweetheart, learn from her. Let her clean you up all pretty and when I come home I’ll bring special treats” he gently pushes me towards her. I play along, also feigning a smile, dampening the impact of the thoughts that are screaming MY TREATS. MY DADDY TREATS.

“Treats for me Daddy?” I ask with caution, girls who make demands get nothing but I want to make sure she won’t be getting any more of what’s mine.

“Treats for you both, if you’re good girls” Daddy calls behind him as he ascends the stairs. His boots heavy against the wood.

He’s gone before he can see the rage consuming me. She sees it, she feels it, flinching at the anger in my words “What did you do with my Daddy? MY DADDY!”

Whipping round to face her she squeals with fear and starts to back away. Where are you going? Daddy says you have to clean me… and you will do as you’re told.” I bellow with such force that she drops to her knees and covers her face.

“Anything, anything, please I don’t want to go back in the cage!”

“Anything?” Silly girl. So her biggest most darkest of fears is the cage? I laugh low which catches her by surprise. She moves her hands to look at me, terror creeping into her features.

“Ok…” I begin slowly, gauging her reaction, “I won’t put you in the cage. I’ll tell Daddy to keep you out and play. Is that what you want?” She nods frantically, clasping her hands together in prayer position and whispering “Please, please.”

“Daddy will listen to me.” I promise, playing into my position of power. “If I ask him you’ll never have to go back in that nasty cage” I come close and stroke her hair to soothe her. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She nods under my hand suppressing her sobs.

“It’s a shame really, thatI. Don’t. Want. To!” I curl my fingers painfully into her hair and emphasise the last four words with my fist, raining hard against her ribs which crunch audibly.

Incoherently she babbles at me; spit flying from her open mouth. It’s light in comparison to the trickles of warm liquid now running over my toes.

The stupid little bitch is wetting herself.

“You filthy cunt!” I spit at her, jumping sideways to avoid the stream. She deserves a swear, I don’t care if I get punished for it, what she’s doing is way worse. I shall tell Daddy. “Look at you, how disgusting you are, wetting yourself, making such a mess in my playroom. Daddy will be so angry.”

With that the floodgates open. I continue to berate her, a stream of shameful slurs highlighting how uncontrollably the urine is leaking out of her and running all over the floor. She can’t bear to look, twisting her head away with pained eyes. “No, no, no” she repeats, desperate for it to stop. Her reaction is extreme and only encourages me further. This is having an effect, I’m having an effect.

Gripping her hair I thrust her face down into the wetness. “Smell that now, bitch!? Can you smell what you’re doing to *my* playroom?” Her sobs are lost in pathetic gurgles.

“Clean it up.” I command sternly, holding her firm and resisting her weak struggles. “I said lick it up.”

Refusing at first, I make her taste it, bathing my hands in her filth and shoving my fingers down her throat. Gripping her tongue, I pull it out and press her face to the floor. Dragging her tongue along the floor like a cloth so it bleeds, I repeat “Lick. It. Up.” My words punctuated with aggression.

“You do know how to lick, don’t you? Like you did you my Daddy’s special place. *My* Daddy’s special place.”

Weeping she gives in and starts licking up the mix of her own piss and the grime that plasters the basement floor.

Riled up by her reaction, I use every possible angle I can conceive of to humiliate her. She looks like she should be a nice girl, clearly proud of her appearance, I pick on the threads of possible insecurities until I find live ones and I pull. Reminding her of how she looks right now and the things she did to get out of the cage.

I use nasty names and swears and she flinches at each one as if they were electric.

Taking a different tack, I pull out a picture from my pocket. I stole it from her purse. It shows the smiling faces of a happy family. Her eyes grow wide with fear when she recognises it.

“My baby …” A stumpy hand reaches out for the photo. I stamp down hard on it and quell any hope she has left.

“Yes.” I say quietly, menacingly. “And think how disgusted they will be when Daddy shows him what a mess you’ve become.” My words are soft, simple and direct. “You will repulse them. Look at you. They will hate you.” I add one last verbal strike. “They will be made good, just like me. Because you failed, Daddy will have to teach them.”

I hit her with a threat that finally knocks her down, slumping sobbing into her guilty puddle “You’ve made such a mess; you’ll never get out of the cage again. You’ll watch them from your prison ”

Piss isn’t the only thing drained from her; she’s lost that animalistic sense of survival. I’ve tamed the bitch.

Daddy thought she would be well behaved for him but she was physically able to absorb his beatings and bites and still have fight in her eyes, yet now…. my words have been the key to her destruction.

“You’ll do as I say now, won’t you? He’s my Daddy and you won’t play with him again. He’s mine. We can be friends because Daddy insists but don’t you dare touch him.”

My threats are low and soft, my anger dissipated with my victory.

You’ll be good for me now, won’t you, won’t you? You’ll look after me like he says and you won’t ever need to have my special Daddy treats. No rewards for you. You’re not a good girl, you’re just a filthy slave. My filthy slave.”

Glazed over, she nods. Tired, I curl into her lap, pulling her arms over me. I like her better like this, broken, completely compliant, with her fight extinguished. She will be a good girl for me after all. My tamed bitch.